


Morning Coffee

by DefiantDuck



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 01:51:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7386040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefiantDuck/pseuds/DefiantDuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa Woods finds herself addicted to more than just coffee at the little coffeeshop near her work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> A scrappy little half-heartedly edited one-shot from my computer. Its definitely not my favourite of all the things I've written, but It's silly, it's short and it's self indulgent. I hope someone gets some kind of enjoyment out of it!  
> Just something little to upload while I work on another big fic project

 

 

Lexa Woods knew that getting a coffee during the morning rush was a bad idea even before she walked through the doors of starbucks and laid eyes on the formidable line of business suit clad men burying their attention in their phones while waiting for their turn at the counter. The low grumble of gridlocked inner city traffic was muffled as soon as she closed the door behind her, leaving only the contemplative guitar strumming of whatever indie acoustic playlist the coffee shop was favouring today. She joined the line, groaning internally. Despite it all, the idea of waiting a half hour just for a coffee was infinitely more attractive than going into the string of meetings she had this morning at work entirely uncaffienated.

She resisted the urge to blend into the rest of the disgruntled looking crowd of businesspeople and occupy herself with her phone, instead crossing her arms and gazing out over the shop. There were a few sitting leisurely at tables, sipping a steaming cup of something-or-another, nibbling on crumbly cakes and cookies. Most people coming into the little Starbucks on the corner of Ninth and Crown Streets were here to grab a coffee and run, more than likely scurrying into one of the many high-rise office buildings immediately adjacent to the store. With all the hustle and bustle here in the centre of the city, a coffee shop as well placed as this would hardly ever be quiet.

Lexa checked the watch on her wrist and groaned, out loud this time. She was later than she’d thought. Still, coffee took precedence over punctuality, every time. Her eyes travelled vacantly over to where the little team of baristas were moving around the equipment behind the counter with complete efficiency, brushing past each other like they could anticipate one another’s every movement. Syrup nozzles were squirted, hot milk was poured, cocoa was powdered, all with the practiced efficiency of a well-oiled machine.

Lexa liked watching these busy little baristas work – there was something almost calming about how good they were at their jobs. She always felt a little spark of indignation whenever someone was rude or shouted at them. She’d been coming here since she started working at the law firm, almost a year ago since graduating college, and she could probably count the amount of times they’d made a mistake on one hand.

There were four working today, one manning the counter and three at the drink stations pouring orders. There were a couple of familiar faces there, Lexa had been served by the pretty dark haired one a couple of times before. She’d seen the others around the shop before as well, all except one blonde-haired figure, whose face she couldn’t quite see over the coffee making machines on the counter. Bright coloured hair tied back in a messy bun, although she was new she didn’t seem to have any problems fitting in with the other baristas, moving among them and using the equipment with the same practiced ease as her co-workers. Lexa stood a little higher, pushing herself on the tips of her toes to try and see the face of this blonde-haired break from her usual morning routine.

“Next, please!”

Lexa fell back onto the flats of her feet, shuffling forward to the counter, a little embarrassed. “Uh – Espresso please. Short.”

The barista, a dark haired girl with the bolded name ‘ _OCTAVIA’_ on her name tag, smiled politely and punched a few things into the machine mounted onto the counter. “Got it. Will that be all?”

“That’s it, thanks.”

“Can I get a name for that?”

“Lexa.”

The barista rung up the charge, Lexa handed over a ten and took her receipt and change, already walking over to the other end of the counter. There was only one other person ordering after Lexa, she evidently had just caught the tail end of the morning rush. As she settled on the edge of a vacant table to wait for her drink, she turned around to be treated to a better look at the little Starbuck’s newest Barista.

The blonde, Lexa noticed with a wrenching stomach, was unbelievably pretty. Wide, blue eyes watching the nozzles spurt hot milk and cream carefully, popping travel caps onto cups with skilled hands and working around the other two baristas as if she’d been working there all her life. She wore a white collared shirt underneath the green Starbucks apron, dusted a little with chocolate powder that had spilled at some stage. Lexa shook her head a little and looked away, embarrassed with herself. It had been ages since she’d been enamoured with a stranger like this – she wasn’t a teenager anymore, dammit. Nevertheless, she granted herself a brief look at how comfortably efficient the blonde was behind the counter, and couldn’t help feeling disappointed when she was the only barista without a name tag on.

The crowd slowly dissipated as people collected their drinks and bustled out, until finally the blonde girl peered at the black scrawl on a recently filled travel cup of steaming something, trying to make out the writing. “Short Espresso for... uh, Lisa?”

“Lexa,” Lexa corrected automatically, quite forgetting the fact that she never bothered correcting Starbucks workers who would always, inevitably, mishear her name. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the beautiful blonde stranger was staring over at her, her coffee in her hand. Lexa moved forward to take it, feeling herself redden. “Thanks,” she said hoarsely, taking the cup.

The blonde nodded with a small smile, peering at her, before turning back to prepare another drink. Lexa turned and walked towards the door. Something was unfurling in her stomach, something warm and not entirely unwelcome. She raised the cup to her lips and took a sip, but froze almost immediately, a hand flying to her mouth as something milky and creamy and wholly too sweet sloshed around her mouth. Stepping aside to let other people walking past walk out, she peered down at the cup.

Heaving a heavy sigh, she glanced at her watch. She was only five minutes late now, what harm was there in being a little more late, for the sake of coffee?

Sliding past the last few people to be leaving the store, Lexa moved back over to the counter, stoically avoiding the somersault her stomach did when the blonde barista looked up at her with mouth turned down in confusion. She was adorable when she was bewildered, Lexa thought and then immediately cursed herself.

“Is... everything alright?” The girl asked. She had a nice voice, calming and throaty in a way that told Lexa she was comfortable talking to people.

Lexa put the cup down on the counter and offered a small smile. “Uh, I think I was given the wrong drink.”

The girl beamed back, eyes apologetic. “Oh, right. Sorry about that, I’ll grab you a new one. Short Espresso, right?”

“That’s it,” Lexa said as the girl bustled away after shooting her a bright smile. “Thanks.”

She stayed by the counter while the blonde girl plucked a fresh cup from a stack and started the drink again. The store had calmed considerably since the morning rush had started to die down, and a few of the Baristas had ventured out into the store to clean tables, all four no longer needed behind the counter. Of course, the fact that the morning rush was over meant that Lexa was probably extremely late for work now, but she shoved that thought to the bottom of her mind. Nothing to be done about it now, she figured.  Another barista, the one who’d taken Lexa’s order, sauntered up behind the blonde girl, glancing up at Lexa with confusion.

“What’s going on?” She murmured quietly to the blonde girl. Lexa wouldn’t have heard if she hadn’t been leaning so close to the counter, her back again it and only surreptitiously glancing out of the corner of her eye to watch the blonde girl work.

“Redoing a drink.” The blonde girl said in that rhythmic voice, firm with certainty.

“Oh.” The dark haired barista whose name tag proclaimed she was named ‘Octavia’ screwed her nose up in distaste, lightly touching Clarke’s shoulder. “I’m off now, C.”

_C – what does that stand for?_ Lexa thought, running through every name she knew that started with C, just to see if she could find one the barista suited. The blonde turned slightly to smile widely at her co-worker. “Lucky you. You on tomorrow?”

“Mhm,” the barista, Octavia, hummed, patting her blonde friends shoulder once more before disappearing into the door labelled ‘staff only.’ The blonde watched her go, before popping a travel cap onto the drink she’d just finished pouring, moving over to the edge of the counter where Lexa was waiting, trying not to look like she’d just been eavesdropping.

The girl slid the drink across the counter, smiling a wide, beaming smile that seemed to shine as bright as the sun, making Lexa’s stomach liquefy all over again. “Here you go, Lexa. Have a nice day.”

Lexa managed a smile back, picking up her drink and muttering a nervous “thankyou.” She was already out the door and out on the streets on her way to the firm before she realised, with a kind of pleasant, warm light-headedness, that the most beautiful barista in the world had actually called her by name.

 

\---

 

The next day, when Lincoln sauntered over to her desk at work and declared that she worked too hard and needed to go out somewhere for lunch rather than eat at her desk, Lexa was quick to agree. Likewise, she was quick to suggest the little Starbucks on the corner of Ninth and Crown. Lincoln, a top notch criminal lawyer with the physicality of a Roman god, had been so surprised that his workaholic friend had agreed to go out for lunch that he didn’t even try and convince her to try the steakhouse a few blocks away. Which, in itself, was a miracle. The man could eat the biggest steaks on offer and still ask for the dessert menu.

In truth, Lexa couldn’t help feeling she hadn’t gotten her fill of the little Starbucks since that morning, when she’d bought her coffee before work. The store had been so busy that the little blonde barista had had her head down making drinks the entire time Lexa had been there. Lexa had tried not to feel disappointed because, for god’s sakes, she was a complete stranger, really. Nevertheless, Lexa was keen for another chance to go to the café.

They walked side by side, Lincoln chattering happily about a case he’d been working on for months that was he was starting to make real progress on. Lexa had known Lincoln from law school, and had been overjoyed when she learned that he worked at the firm she was moving to. The difference between Law School Lincoln and Professional Lawyer Lincoln had been dramatic. Lincoln, during college, had had his fair share of hard times. Lexa, being one of his close friends, had been there for the times when Lincoln came down from one of his many highs, been there to find and destroy all the messily rolled up joints stashed wherever he could hide them from her.

Lawyer Lincoln was clean, having not used for over a year, and the demeanour he’d had when in withdrawals, the cranky, sickly, moody version of himself, had given way to someone who was cheerful and intelligent. Lincoln, now, was a joy to be around, and Lexa was glad to reconnect with him now that they worked at the same firm.

Lincoln opened the door to Starbucks for her, and Lexa immediately scanned the counter for any signs of blonde. To her disappointment, her barista was not in sight. The café was almost empty, a few businessmen sitting alone at tables with a cup of coffee or tea and a newspaper. Lincoln guided her over to the counter, empty of other customers. Octavia was behind the register, and she took his order with a wide smile. Lexa couldn’t concentrate too much on that, though, because the ‘staff-only’ door had flown open, and a pretty blonde distraction had wandered out, wiping her hands on a sheet of paper towel.

“Hey, earth to Lexa,” Lincoln was saying, and Lexa turned back to see that Lincoln had stepped aside for Lexa to take her order. “You want to order food, or stand there all day?” Octavia, however, seemed to find herself somewhat distracted as well, eyes darting over to Lincoln while she was ringing up Lexa’s order. They both paid, and wandered over to an empty table. This extra attention wasn’t lost on Lincoln, who was also stealing furtive glances back at the counter, where Octavia was now unabashedly staring. Lexa would have laughed, if she weren’t trying desperately not to do the exact same with the blonde girl whose name – _damn it –_ Lexa still didn’t know.

The two baristas started making drinks, and talking in voices too low for Lexa to hear from across the room. She could have sworn she heard laughter though, and it was such a beautiful sound that she was almost certain that it had come from the little blonde barista.

“So,” Lincoln said with a smile, “what prompts the workaholic to want to venture out from behind her desk, huh? Finally got curious enough to know what real fresh air smells like?”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “I know what fresh air smells like,” she grumbled. “I just happen to have a good work ethic.”

“And the sense of humour of a boiled potato,” Lincoln said playfully, poking Lexa’s elbow where it rested on the table. Lexa smiled, rolling her eyes again.

She glanced over at the counter again, lowering her voice. “I think that barista is staring at you.” Lexa murmured, smiling.

Lincoln, when faced with a situation like this, did what he had always done – turned into a nervous schoolgirl. “R – really?” He hissed back, his eyes widening. He looked like he desperately like he wanted to look over in the direction of the counter, but was restraining himself. He shot a sweet, dopey smile over at Lexa. “She’s kinda cute, right?”

Lexa shrugged. “Sure, in a ‘she’d happily rip your head off if you pissed her off’ kind of cute.”

Lincoln had glanced over at the counter to smile at Octavia, who beamed back. “I know, right? Adorable.”

“I guess. But hey, I guess you do always go for the scary ones,” Lexa laughed, but her mouth clamped closed again as she saw that the blonde was walking towards them with a platter containing their food. She smiled at the two of them, putting Lincoln’s sandwich and Lexa’s croissant down in front of them. Lexa found herself grinning back when faced with the burning might of her barista’s bright smile. “Here we go,” The girl said with a sigh. “Your drinks won’t be too much longer.”

Lincoln thanked her because Lexa couldn’t quite find her voice with the blonde girl standing so close, smelling of vanilla and chocolate and cream and like everything sweet that Lexa would never want in her own coffee, but would gladly lick off her barista’s bare skin. Lexa shook herself. _Jesus, where did that come from?!_ She berated herself internally. The blonde girl paused to smile again at Lexa, sending her heart into an erratic, pounding rhythm, before turning and walking back to the counter. Lexa watched her go in disbelief. How was it fair that one person, one _stranger,_ had the power to wreak so much havoc in her and then just walk away?

Lincoln was watching her closely, and looked almost like he was going to say something, but he was abruptly distracted when he looked down at his food. He bit into the sandwich, nodding appraisingly. Lexa remembered to pick her own pastry up before she got stuck staring at the blonde again. This was proving hard, though, as her barista set about moving around the room cleaning tables. Lexa was treated to the sight of the other girl’s graceful, deliberate movements, sliding past tables as if she could sense they were there without even looking. Her barista was shorter than Lexa, but stockier, just the right weight to be healthy, natural, pretty. Lexa she couldn’t keep her eyes off the way the blonde’s head bobbed along to the music playing quietly in the background.

Lexa looked back at her food, shaking herself a little. Okay, so she had a teeny tiny, miniscule, completely unimportant crush. The girl was pretty, sure, but was she all that beautiful? A little voice inside Lexa said confidently that _yes, she’s completely and utterly perfect._

Octavia appeared after not too long with their drinks, beaming at them both briefly but her gaze settling on Lincoln, who smiled back up at her. “Everything all good here? You got all you ordered?” The dark haired barista asked, directing a stare that could only be described as hungry aimed squarely at Lincoln.

“Yeah, everything’s perfect,” Lincoln said, grinning. “I just wish I’d started coming here for my lunch breaks months ago.”

“That makes two of us,” Octavia said smoothly. She was all cool confidence and sexy smiles. “We’re usually busier at lunchtimes, you picked a good day to come.”

Lincoln’s smile widened. “Huh. Well, maybe we should make this a regular lunch thing, eh Lex?”

Lexa startled at being included in the conversation, but managed to hum a noise of agreement because hell yeah, she’d be more than happy to come here again. Lincoln and Octavia kept talking for a while, and Lexa found that she’d lost track of the conversation, instead losing herself in the smell of coffee, the sound of acoustic guitars strumming in the background and the sight of her barista moving her head slightly to the music as she reorganised a rack of mugs for sale. When she turned around, Lexa watched her lips move as she mouthed the words to whatever song was playing, and imagined what it would be like to touch those lips, to taste them. Lexa turned back to her cup of drink. God, this was becoming a problem. Lexa took a deep sip of her drink and tried to calm herself down.

When she looked back over at where the blonde girl had been, because there was no use trying not to, she met a pair of bright blue eyes staring straight at her, intense with some kind of unnameable _something_ that burnt bright and hit Lexa hard. Mouth going dry, Lexa stared back, caught in whatever spell it had been that had made the barista stop wiping down one of the tables and start looking over at her. A small smile quirked at the corner of the barista’s mouth, and if it wasn’t the most captivating thing in the world, then Lexa didn’t know what was.

Octavia brushed past her, breaking both her line of sight and the spell that had kept her frozen and staring like an idiot. Lexa realised she hadn’t even noticed that Octavia and Lincoln’s conversation had ended, she’d been that oblivious to everything but a pair of bright blue eyes.

Octavia walked back to the counter, and looked over at where her blonde co-worker was back to neatening the pillows on the couch area, back turned to where their table was. “Hey Clarke, help me move some stuff out back?”

“Oh – yeah,” The blonde barista said with a sigh, throwing the dishcloth she’d been using to wipe tables down on the counter and wiping her hands on her apron before walking out into the staff room, closing the door behind her.

“She seems awesome,” Lincoln said, still smiling, and Lexa just nodded because hell fucking yes she seemed awesome. Who really cares if they weren’t thinking about the same person?

What’s more, now the world’s hottest barista had a name – Clarke. Out of all the names Lexa had tried to attach to the nameless girl who’d occupied her thoughts shamelessly over the past twenty-four hours, none fit her better, none rolled off the tongue as nicely, none sounded as musical as ‘Clarke.’

Lexa looked down and took another long sip of her drink, groaning internally. Man, she was so screwed.

 

\---

 

 

It wasn’t like Lexa was some kind of lovelorn teenager – she’d had girlfriends before, for god’s sake. Granted, she’d broken it off with her last girlfriend over 11 months ago, with zero action since, but that had nothing to do with it. She was almost ashamed of the way she was acting, going into the little café every morning hoping for more than the brief eye contact and smile that she received from Clarke. The little blonde barista would often refer to her by name when giving her the drink she’d ordered. Just hearing her own names on those pretty lips was, shamefully, enough to send shock waves of warmth ricocheting through her body, warm enough to make her impervious to the crisp January cold that had settled in the streets outside.

It continued on for a week and a half, Lexa counted every day. She’d go through for coffee in the morning and then come back for lunch with Lincoln later in the day. It was plainly obvious that Lincoln only partook in the arrangement for the chance to talk to Octavia, who he spent great lengths of time talking to Lexa about. She didn’t mind so much, though. Happy Lincoln was still something that Lexa was so thankful for, she was content to hear about his damn near teenaged levels of angst when it came to the dark-haired and feisty barista, simply because it made him happy.

On Wednesday though, Lexa woke up in the morning in her little studio apartment with a long and weary groan. Thinking about Clarke and wanting to see Clarke every day was one thing, but _dreaming_ about Clarke? This was getting creepy. Her skin tingled with warmth from where, in the dream, Clarke had touched her, tenderly and with affection, her pulse pounding from excitement. She sat up in bed, getting a look at herself in the mirror hanging on the wall opposite, she groaned again. Wide, wild eyes with the pupils blown wide with arousal. This was getting too close to being some kind of case of teenage pining, and she’d gone through enough of that in high school. It was unacceptable, Lexa told herself severely. There was no point getting herself worked up over a girl who didn’t share her feelings (or her sexuality for that matter,) it would only result in hurting herself and possibly making Clarke uncomfortable. There was only one thing to be done.

Lexa caught the bus to work as she usually did, getting off at the usual stop and heading the usual way through the maze of inner city streets, dodging the usual tidal wave of businesspeople also making their way to work. This time, though, she walked resolutely past the little Starbucks on the corner of Ninth and Crown, not even allowing herself a look inside. If she couldn’t see Clarke without turning into an angsty ball of pining and embarrassment, then the solution was simple – she just wouldn’t see Clarke.

She picked up a coffee from the cart on the bottom level of the office building her firm was at. It was watery and tasteless, weak and sickeningly bad. She threw it out when she got out of the elevator.

No coffee made for an interesting work morning. Lexa would steadfastly deny that she was ever addicted to anything, especially caffeine, but even she couldn’t deny that she was suffering without her morning hit of coffee. She was exhausted by mid-morning, and only just managed to drag herself through the meeting she had just before lunch. She hoped the client hadn’t noticed that she looked like she was going to pass out at any second. Between a restless sleep and a lack of coffee, Lexa was definitely ready to drop. She managed to soldier on through the meeting, and she congratulated herself for it.

Lunch time rolled around, and she found she’d quite forgotten that Lincoln would be wandering over to her desk to take her to lunch at Starbucks again. He had a coffee cup in his hand, though, and Lexa’s eyes found it immediately. “Where did you get that?” She demanded.

Lincoln looked bewildered. “Uh, coffee shop across the street. It’s nearly – “ Lexa snatched the cup and drained it, drinking dregs that were infinitely better than the coffee bean water she’d had this morning. “- empty.”

“Sorry,” Lexa grumbled, putting the now completely empty cup down on the desk. “Skipped coffee this morning. Running late.” She lied.

Lincoln shrugged. “Fair enough. Come on, lunch time. I’ll buy you some more coffee myself.”

Lexa felt something pull painfully in her stomach. Coffee would be great, and she’d gladly have gone if she knew for sure that coffee was the only thing she wanted from the little Starbucks. She still had blonde hair and luminous blue eyes on her mind. “Uh, no thanks. I’m too busy.” She grunted.

Lincoln raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

Lexa looked up at him, forcing a smile. “Seriously. Go without me, go see Octavia.”

Lincoln shrugged turning around. “See you later then. Make sure you have something to eat, okay?”

Agreeing, Lexa watched him walk away, clutching her hands together under the desk. This was good. This was right. No point getting more invested in this embarrassing one sided romance more than she already was.

She turned back to her work, stared at it for a moment, groaned, and planted her face onto the desk with a weary sigh.

 

\---

 

Lexa, to her credit, managed to stay away from Starbucks for a whole three days. She was proud of herself, but it would be more of a victory if the lack of coffee (and Clarke, her mind supplied helpfully,) wasn’t taking an impact on her productivity and general peace of mind. She was exhausted to the point that she was now a wide-eyed, blank faced zombie. She’d tried the coffee across the street, and it was alright, but somehow not nearly as good as what she’d been used to getting from Starbucks for the past year or so.

So, when Lincoln sauntered over to her desk and made his usual offer of lunch, Lexa’s resolve crumbled and she agreed without a fight. Lincoln looked startled, but grinned at her.

They walked out of the building together, Lexa feeling a pit in the bottom of her stomach. Maybe she would see Clarke and not think about the way the light was hitting her hair, or the way she smelt like everything sweet and delicious in the world. Maybe the distance and time had broken whatever embarrassing attraction she’d felt.

“I have to say,” Lincoln said with a laugh as they walked out onto the street. “I can’t help but admire that you tried.”

Lexa looked over at him. “Tried to what?”

Lincoln looked at her strangely. “Tried to break the addiction. Go cold turkey.”

Her stomach swooped in panic, and she stared at Lincoln for a long moment. He didn’t know about her hopeless, infuriatingly embarrassing crush, did he? He couldn’t know, surely. Then it clicked, and Lexa sighed with relief. “Oh right. Coffee.”

“Yeah, coffee,” Lincoln nudged her playfully on the shoulder. “I know you say you’re not addicted but man, you should have seen yourself over the past three days. Full-on withdrawal, Lex.”

Lexa managed a weak smile, because sure she’d been missing the coffee, but maybe she was missing something else as well. “Well, I guess I’m giving in to the addiction.”

“The pull of the caffeine is too strong to resist. Embrace it, my friend.” Lincoln said wisely. “I have to say, we’re turning into quite the regulars here.” He said with a chuckle, nodding over at the little Starbucks, getting closer and closer.

“That tends to happen when you want to get in one of the barista’s pants,” Lexa pointed out, and Lincoln shot her a look.

“Ha ha,” he said humourlessly. “They know you too, y’know. They were even asking where you were yesterday. See, _everyone_ knows how addicted to coffee y – “

“They asked about me?” Lexa said sharply, feeling her heart beat a little faster. “Really? Octavia?”

Lincoln looked at her strangely. “Nah, the little blonde one. I don’t know her name.”

Lexa felt fireworks explode in her mind, bright and ecstatic, as Lincoln reached out to open the door to the café for them to enter.

Inside, it was busier than most other times Lexa had seen it during lunchtime. All four baristas were manning the counter, and Lexa had to physically restrain herself from looking for a flash of blonde hair. The tables were all occupied, but as soon as they entered one man folded his newspaper and made to move over to the bin. Lincoln nodded over at the vacant table. “You go grab that table, I’ll order our food.”

Lexa told him what she wanted to eat and drink (resolutely avoiding caffeinated drinks – hey, she wasn’t about to break her streak this far in,) and darted over to the table, sitting down. She watched Lincoln join the line, allowing herself a quick look around the shop. Just being here, hearing the smooth indie tunes playing over the speakers, listening to the clink of mugs, plates and cutlery, and the hissing of the coffee machine across the room was doing wonders to her. She felt her mind relax, the accumulated tension in her muscles from the past couple of days evaporating. Leaning back comfortably on her chair and closing her eyes, she sighed contentedly.

By the time Lincoln had ordered and returned to the table, the crowd hadn’t dissipated. Lincoln sunk down into the chair opposite Lexa and heaved a sigh, shooting a mournful look over at where Octavia was busy at the counter, too occupied even to shoot her usual furtive look over at him.  Lexa turned her attention over to where the other three baristas were working hard. Yes, there was Clarke, brow wrinkled in concentration as she churned out drink after drink, calling out names in that commanding voice that Lexa wished she could hear her own name in again.

Lexa and Lincoln fell into comfortable conversation, chatting about the cases they were working on and difficult clients. As a lawyer, Lexa was confident and calm, getting work done in an efficient way. Lincoln, on the other hand, was an impassioned and heartfelt attorney, the kind that is in it to do good, or make the world a better place, or whatever else people like that told themselves. Lexa didn’t need to have some divine mission for world peace to be good at her job – she was good at memorising dates and legislation, and knew she was good under pressure in a court room situation.

The next minute, though, someone across the room was shouting Lincoln’s order, and Lexa turned to look over at the counter, where she was seized by a pair of unspeakably bright blue eyes staring straight at her. Butterflies erupted into her stomach, and she swallowed through a dry throat. Lincoln stood up to go over and pick up the platter on the counter that contained their food and drinks, but Clarke smiled brightly and waved a hand as if to say ‘ _don’t worry about it, I got it,’_ before picking up a tray and moving past the counter.

Lexa’s heart beat out a loud, nervous, off-kilter rhythm as the blonde made her way over to their table, smile widening as she looked at Lexa. Standing over them, she began unloading the contents of the tray onto the table, starting with a pair of steaming meat pies that Lincoln was staring at hungrily. Lexa managed a weak smile back, her heart now beating in her throat.

Clarke put the drinks down on the table and took a small step back to look Lexa, who was warm all over, up and down. “You’re back!” She said brightly. “I’ve missed our regular customer these past couple days.”

Angels were rejoicing in Lexa’s head, but she forced them to the back of her mind so she could shrug in what she hoped was a casual, disaffected way. “Work’s been crazy. I’ve sure missed my morning coffee, though.” She said, and congratulated herself when her voice didn’t wobble.

“I’ve missed _making_ your morning coffee,” Clarke laughed, and turned back to glance at where the counter was still busy. Octavia was shooting her a wide-eyed ‘get-back-here-right-now’ look. “I should probably head back.” Her gaze found Lexa’s again, and she smiled widely, eyes lighting up in the way that only happens when a smile is genuine, unforced. “It’s good to see you again, though.”

Lexa smiled back, and it felt like she wouldn’t stop smiling for the next thirty years at least. “You too,” she said.

“Clarke,” Clarke said, tapping her name tag. “I’m Clarke, by the way.”

“Clarke,” Lexa said, and just saying the name felt amazing. “And I guess you already know mine.”

“Sure do, as well as how you like your coffee,” Clarke smiled, and there was a long moment where neither said anything, just staring at the other. Lexa was never one for awkward eye contact, but there was nothing awkward about this, she reckoned she could spend hours just counting the bright blue flecks of light in the other girl’s eyes, the way wisps of golden hair escaped her messy bun to frame her face. Finally, though, the barista broke that spell that had so entranced Lexa, looking back at the counter. “Well, I hope I see you around – try not to miss any more of those morning coffees.”

“I’ll try,” Lexa said weakly as Clarke turned to walk back over to the counter, ducking behind it and assuming her spot at the coffee making machinery, shooting her one last beaming smile.

When Lexa managed to turn back to face Lincoln, her friend was staring at her, one eyebrow raised questioningly. He cleared his throat. “What was that?”

“What was what?” She wondered, perhaps a little too innocently, ducking her head to stuff forkfuls of pie into her mouth to avoid having to speak, only to cough and gag on the food that was still scaldingly hot. Throwing back some water to cool her mouth, she reddened a little under Lincoln’s suspicious glare.

“Smooth.” He said. She rolled her eyes.

Thankfully, Lincoln didn’t say anything more, dropping the matter immediately even though it was painfully clear that he knew something was up. They ate in comfortable silence, watching as the lunch time rush slowly dwindled. The sound of people murmuring and the coffee machine hissing slowly quietened to give way to the sound of the music playing and newspapers turning. “We should probably get back to the office,” Lincoln sighed. Lexa agreed.

They got up together, scraping their chairs enough to garner an irritated expression from the people sitting around them. Loud enough, also, for Octavia to look up and see them from where she was cleaning plates at the sink behind the counter. She put what she was doing down, moving out towards them. Lincoln came to a full stop, turning to watch her walk over with slightly widened eyes and a vaguely dopey smile.

“Hey, you leaving?” She wondered, looking between them as they nodded. Her eyes fixed on Lincoln, and her mouth curved into a smile. “Uh – I was wondering... I mean it’s okay if not, but, uh... My shift’s done at five-thirty. I don’t suppose you’d – ?”

“Yeah!” Lincoln said at once, not even hesitating. “I’ll pick you up from here, if you like. Would dinner suit?”

Octavia’s smile widened, and her eyes softened with something that Lexa could only describe as affection. “Perfect. See you then.”

Lexa resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her friend’s excited face, but a little voice in her head told her sternly they she shouldn’t be laughing at Lincoln, at least he was getting somewhere with his coffee-shop-crush. As if to drive the point home, she glanced back over at the counter, where Clarke was wiping down the benchtop. Almost like she could sense eyes on her, she looked up and their gazes met. Her face split into a wide smile, waving cheerily. Lexa waved back, and her heart fluttered wildly a little. She may have been being oversensitive, or optimistic, but somehow she felt the gaze of the blonde girl burning into her back as she left.

As they walked out onto the street again, Lincoln already talking about Octavia, and where he was planning on taking her for dinner that night, Lexa couldn’t help staring down at her shoes and frowning. Clarke had waved at her the way a friend might farewell her, not the way someone who shared her hugely inappropriate feelings might. Lexa heaved a sigh, her lips pursing and her brows furrowing resolutely. Clarke was probably straight, and certainly didn’t share the feelings that had so terrorised Lexa over the past week and a half. There was no point in pretending otherwise, she would only hurt herself. What sense was there in dragging out the torture? Yet, at the same time, she now knew she couldn’t completely stop going to the little Starbucks – the last few days had proven that.

She dragged her feet along the pavement on the way back to work, listening to Lincoln’s excited rambling about his date.

If she was just screwed before, she was doubly, royally, unutterably fucked now.

 

\---

 

The work day couldn’t have ended soon enough. Just before she was due to clock out, already starting to shut down her computer and put away some files she’d had spread out on her desk, Lincoln appeared at her door. Nerves were written in every line of his face, and she smiled when he admitted how worried he was about the date. She could do this, helping her friends out with their own love lives. This was easy, all she needed to do was gently reassure her sweet, panicking friend and send him on his way. Octavia obviously liked him a lot, and Lincoln turned into a schoolgirl whenever he so much as talked about her, so the date could only go well. Lincoln gave her a wide grin as he left, and a nervous “wish me luck!”

After that, all that was left was for Lexa to gather up her bags, pull on the coat she’d been wearing that morning and make for the elevator. She didn’t usually get out this early, but hey, she didn’t have such a massive workload after working through her lunch breaks the past few days, and she figured she deserved an early mark this once. Walking out onto the street, she shivered at once when a violent gust of icy air hit the side of her face. Taking her scarf from her bag, she wound it around her neck and buried her face in the soft fabric as she put her head down and charged towards the cover of the bus stop, only a street or two away.

When she finally got to the bus stop, she pushed herself into a corner of the shelter, her arms wrapped around her middle and teeth gritted against the chill. When had it gotten this cold?! She was so involved in wondering whether her hand-knitted black mittens were still at the bottom of her bag from the last time she’d used them, she didn’t notice that the person sitting down on the seat of the shelter was extremely familiar.

If barista Clarke was pretty, off-the-clock Clarke was heart-stoppingly beautiful, green apron absent in favour of a long black coat and huge knitted grey scarf over the white blouse she usually wore. Instead of being tied into a messy bun, her hair was loose and fell in artful curls over her shoulders and back, falling into her face as she hunched over a book. In her hand was a pencil, and she was sketching out something Lexa couldn’t see in quick, deliberate strokes of the lead. Her fingers were blue from the cold, but it didn’t seem to bother her as her brow furrowed in adorable concentration. She seemed to have a knack for sensing when someone was looking at her, because she paused for a moment before looking up, her eyes finding Lexa immediately and lighting up in shock.

“Hello,” Lexa said in surprise.

“Hello yourself,” Clarke smiled, and she straightened up enough where she sat so Lexa could see the series of delicate sketches of the other people waiting at the bus stop in the sketchbook on her lap. They were descriptive, minimal, and completely beautiful. Clarke closed the book though, to Lexa’s disappointment, and shoved it in her bag. Standing up, she took a few steps closer to where Lexa was standing, still smiling. “Taking off from work early?” She asked, and when Lexa looked confused, she laughed. It was a musical sound, sweet and perfect. “I take this same bus home every day, I’ve never seen you here before so I figured you were either early or late leaving work.”

“It’s too cold to work,” Lexa said, wrapping her arms tighter around herself. “I figured there was no harm in letting myself off the hook a little early for once.”

Clarke just beamed in response, and that alone was enough to wind Lexa as if she’d punched her rather than just smiled at her. Turning back to look at the road, Clarke sighed. “Sometimes I can get Octavia to give me a lift home, but I guess that won’t be happening tonight – was Lincoln nervous about the date of the century as well?”

Lexa smiled, looking down at her feet. “He was like a little kid on Christmas eve. I thought he was going to wet himself, he was so nervous.”

Clarke laughed, a ringing genuine laugh that Lexa wanted to record and hear on repeat. “Octavia was the same. I mean, not outwardly nervous. She likes to let people think nothing worries her, and I guess that’s mostly true – she’s tough as nails. But I know when she’s nervous, and she sure was this afternoon.”

“It’s either going to be the best first date in the world or the worst,” Lexa said thoughtfully.

“I have a feeling they’ll be sitting across the table from one another at a restaurant somewhere just staring at one another.” Clarke said with a laugh. “Octavia’s so smooth when it doesn’t matter, but she likes Lincoln, I can tell. She’ll turn into a complete dork. She’s barely shut up about him all afternoon.”

“You too?” Lexa smiled. “I was treated to ‘101 reasons why Octavia is perfect’ this afternoon. I swear to god he’s a fourteen year old boy stuck in an adult body.”

Clarke grinned and gazed over at her. Lexa turned to look as well and for a moment, they were just standing there, smiling at each other like idiots. Undoubtedly, she’d be embarrassed about this later, but for now there was no awkwardness or need to fill in the silence. In the chilly half-light of the overcast evening, Clarke’s eyes shone an even brighter shade of blue than they did in the coffee shop, and Lexa was filled with the irrational desire to sink her hand into the blonde girl’s hair. Her eyes trailed down to Clarke’s lips, turned up in a small half-smile, and was seized with a hugely forceful urge to lean forward and taste them.

“So what do you do, Lexa?” Clarke said, her lips forming Lexa’s name as though she’d been doing so for years, and making Lexa want to shiver for reasons that had nothing to do with the cold. “Let me guess – lawyer?” Lexa looked surprised, and Clarke grinned. “I’m very intuitive,” she said, mockingly wisely.

“That, or you know what Lincoln does and that I work with him,” Lexa teased. How was this so easy? How wasn’t she clamming up and going red and saying something stupid? “What about you, working at Starbucks full time?”

Clarke wrinkled her nose in distaste and shook her head, and the sight was so cute that Lexa thought that no one would blame her if she leaned forward to kiss the blonde girl’s nose. “No, I’ve been working coffee shop jobs since I first started college. I just need to get myself through this last semester of med school before I graduate. Octavia got me this job for the break, but I’ll be back to classes in a week or so. At least I’ll have a little more money for textbooks.”

Lexa stared at her in surprise. It wasn’t enough that her barista was heart-breakingly attractive _and_ artistic, she had to be a student of medicine and, by extension, highly intelligent, as well? Lexa had started up a slow, steady chant of ‘ _you’re-so-screwed, you’re-so-screwed, you’re-so-screwed’_ in her mind to distract from the fact that Clarke was chewing her lip thoughtfully and looking at her. “You enjoy it? Med school, I mean.” Lexa wondered, if nothing else to make Clarke start talking again, and stop drawing attention to her lips.

She shrugged. “Sure. I mean, I’m good at it, why wouldn’t I enjoy it?” She sounded unsure, as though she was trying to convince herself as much as anything else.

“There’s more to enjoying something than being good at it,” Lexa said gently, and immediately cursed herself for overstepping, turning back to the road and staring straight ahead, feeling a blush creep its way up her neck.

“You’re right about that,” Clarke hummed, and Lexa looked back over at her to see her face fallen somewhat with vaguely thoughtful confusion. Lexa swallowed hard, thinking that she’d probably do just about anything to bring that smile back. “But... “ Clarke trailed off, frowning.

“What?” Lexa pressed gently.

Clarke shrugged. “I mean... if I were good enough, I’d... Not that I’d... It’d be hard to make a living but...” She realised she was babbling and smiled, embarrassed. “I guess I just regret not majoring in art. I’d be so much happier doing art rather than medicine.”

“Why didn’t you?” Lexa wondered.

Clarke blinked in surprise, as though this wasn’t the usual response to wanting to major in art rather than medicine. “I don’t know. I mean, I was just seventeen year old kid when I chose my major, I had no idea what I wanted, really. It was mostly my mother, I guess. I don’t even see her so often anymore, and I can still hear her telling me that art isn’t a real career goal, that I’d be throwing my life away...” she chuckled. “But sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t listened to her.”

“It makes sense to wonder,” Lexa said without thinking. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that it’s hard to put a price tag on passion. If you love what you do, and you’re good enough at it to make enough to get by, you’re doing better than someone with a high paying job they hate.” She shrugged. “I’m sure you’re a talented artist – I can tell that just from seeing one page in your sketchbook. You’re too young to live with regret, Clarke. And definitely too talented.” She froze, realising what she’d said, and how idiotic she was giving life advice to someone she barely knew, someone she _wanted_ to know better. She looked away, embarrassed and mentally berating herself.

 But, when she stole a glance over at the other girl, Clarke was staring openly at her, the smile gone and replaced with an intensely thoughtful look, as if she was pondering Lexa’s very existence. Lexa, to her credit, tried hard not to stare back.

What could have been an extremely bizarre staring match was unceremoniously interrupted with the sudden downpour of rain that came, quite literally, with no warning or light sprinkle as preamble. It crashed down against the top of the bus shelter and made a thunderous, metallic sound. Lexa jumped, startled at the sound, and was suddenly acutely aware of how close to her side Clarke had gotten, the blonde girl’s eyes widening at the sight of the downpour. It streamed down from the top of the shelter like a waterfall, and somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled. It was cold enough for Lexa to have lost feeling in her fingertips, and she stuck them in the pockets of her coat to try and regain some sensitivity, huffing out a puff of steam from her mouth. They stayed standing for five minutes in the rain, the sound of great streams of raindrops on the shelter roof far too loud for any discussion to take place.

One of the other people waiting for the bus, a man with his eyes fixed on his phone, huffed in impatience, leaning over to show his companion something on the phone. “Look at this shit, the bus routes been disrupted, there was an accident in the rain or something. It’s a half hour late.”

Clarke looked up at Lexa with a mournful frown, and Lexa groaned. Feeling in her pockets, Clarke’s eyes narrowed in thought. She heard the sound of keys jangling in Clarke’s pocket. Lexa frowned down at her, confused. “What are you – “

“What do you say we make a break for the café?” Clarke grinned up at her, a glint of excitement in her eyes. “I locked up for Octavia this evening, I’ve still got the keys to get in. Unless,” she said playfully, “you’d rather wait out here in the rain?”

It wasn’t a hard decision. “Ready when you are,” Lexa smiled.

Clarke gave no warning, seizing Lexa’s arm and dragging her out into the rain. The sheer force of the downpour chilled Lexa to the bone at once, almost winding her in its intensity. She was being dragged along by the other girl though, and soon they broke into a run towards the corner of the street, their feet pounding the slippery pavement and splashing through puddles that were already pooling in depressions in the concrete. Lexa heard the blonde girl laugh, and despite the fact that she was drenched, she laughed as well.

Clarke crashed up against the door to the empty, locked up Starbucks and immediately began to fumble the key into the lock, eyes squinted against the rain. It took her a couple of tries, but she managed to get the door open and pushed it wide, gesturing for Lexa to enter. She ducked in after, closing the door and muffling the sound of the rain through the glass.

Lexa had been here so many times, but this was so different to any time she’d been in for a coffee. The lights were out, the music was off and everything was so still and quiet that it looked almost like a different place. Clarke shivered violently, her clothes soaked through and her hair drenched, and crossed the room to a panel of switches and dials on the wall. She poked a couple of buttons to turn the thermostat on and sighed with relief. Without any further ado, she removed her coat, leaving only the vaguely damp white blouse on.

Lexa could have groaned. _Give me a break..._

She wrapped her arms tighter around herself and moved forward a few steps, a little awkwardly. Clarke huffed, gazing over at her. “Shit its cold,” she groaned, and shot an apologetic look Lexa’s way. “I’m sorry, this may have been a worse idea then just waiting at the bus stop,” she chuckled, moving forward to stand closer to where Lexa was leaning against a table, close to the counter. “We may have been dryer staying where we were,”

“Its fine,” Lexa said gently, offering the other girl a smile. Clarke smiled back easily. Clarke was one of those people who was born to smile, and Lexa privately thought that she might just do anything to keep that smile on Clarke’s face.

For a long moment, they just stood there, leaning against the table and smiling at one another. To anyone watching, they would have seemed insane, but to Lexa, it was the easiest thing in the world. “Can I ask you something?” Clarke said, her voice low and rumbling and quiet in a way that sent Lexa’s heart hammering a frantic rhythm.

Lexa’s eyes stayed on Clarke’s. “Of course,” she said quietly, wincing a little when her voice came out as a weak whisper.

“Why haven’t you been coming to the café the past few days?” Clarke asked, her voice still gentle and soft enough that Lexa had to strain to hear it over the muffled hissing sound of the rain outside. “I asked Octavia, she said that you’ve been coming here for morning coffee for like a year. I start working there and you suddenly stopped coming? Did I do anything wrong?” She seemed nervous, and genuinely hurt by the idea that Lexa had tried to avoid her. Which she had, sort of. Just not for the reason Clarke thought.

“Oh, no, I... No, you... I...” Lexa babbled, utterly gracelessly. Ah yes. Here was the embarrassing loser that Lexa was expecting to emerge if she ever ended up in a situation like this, in a room alone with the girl who’d occupied her thoughts on a nearly non-stop basis over the past weeks. The realisation hit her hard, and she was shocked it hadn’t registered with her earlier – _she was in a room alone with Clarke._ It was almost too much to take in, it sent her stomach rolling in nervous waves, her heart starting to beat faster. “I... I didn’t...” Lexa cleared her throat nervously. “I didn’t realise anyone would notice.”

“I noticed.”

Lexa tried not to smile. “I don’t know... I was giving it a break.” She didn’t clarify whether she meant she was giving caffeine a break, or Clarke herself. “And I really did have a lot of work to get done.” Clarke didn’t look convinced.

“Do you enjoy it?” Clarke asked curiously. “Your work?”

Lexa looked at her hands thoughtfully. “I think so. I mean, yes, I do. I like that on any given day I might have the opportunity to help someone. I mean, I’m only just out of college, most of what I do is paperwork, but I like to think the paperwork is part of something bigger, something important.” She shifted a little where she stood, smiling slightly. “I don’t know, it’s hard work but it’s worth it when I see people who would have been screwed by the system coming out of things mostly okay. I’m not much of a ‘standing-at-picket-lines-waving-a-banner-for-a-better-world’ kind of person but...  but I like to think I’m doing something good.” Lexa smiled a little, thinking about how hopeful and wide eyed she’d been when she first decided to go to college to study law. Her resolve to be some kind of legal hero had been shaken by years of hard work and experience in those first few firms she’d gotten internships at before and after graduating. She was far more of a pragmatist now, and some might say she was cold and heartless – but she liked to think there was still a little of the eager little seventeen year old who wanted to change the world in her. Turning to look at Clarke again, she frowned when she took in the blonde’s intense expression.

Her eyes were hard and staring at Lexa as if she’d said something completely unbelievable, or unexpected, like she’d had some kind of epiphany. After a moment though, Clarke’s brow furrowed, and she looked away. Something in Lexa cried out in protest, and she desperately wanted her barista to look at her again. There were a few beats of silence, during which Lexa was almost going to open her mouth and confess everything, how she’d stayed away those few days because seeing Clarke was such a wildly chaotic experience that she didn’t think it was going to be possible to be around her without giving in to the urge to pin her up against a wall and lick chocolate syrup off her skin. How she loved the way Clarke moved around the store when she was cleaning tables, the way her head moved to the music, the way she hummed along when she didn’t know the words. All this and more would have coming flooding out of Lexa, just to make the blonde girl look at her again.

Instead, Clarke took a few steps back to lean against the counter and sigh. “It must be good to enjoy what you do that much.”

Lexa felt her feet moving a few steps forward before she could stop herself. “You know,” she said quietly. “They run life drawing sessions downtown, at the art supplies store.” Clarke glanced up at her, eyes confused, and Lexa shrugged. “I don’t think you can ever define yourself with one thing. No one’s going to look at you and think – ‘that’s Clarke – she’s a doctor.’ If you start thinking of yourself as... as the sum of _everything_ you’ve done, and thought, and said, and everything you are, you start realising that you’re more than just one thing. You’re more than whatever it is your mother thinks you ought to be. You’re... you’re a lot of things Clarke. But anyone thinking you’re just ‘Clarke the doctor’ is a massive injustice to you.” Lexa realised she was babbling, and looked away, embarrassed. “So – uh – yeah. You should go to the life drawing classes. Be Clarke the perfect barista doctor artist.”

Clarke smiled a little, eyes amused. “Perfect?” Her voice was sceptical.

Lexa froze. Had she seriously just called Clarke perfect? Out _loud?_ She swallowed nervously, feeling herself flush. “Well, uh, I mean... I just meant that... You... I was... It....”

Lexa looked back up to see that Clarke was beaming at her. The blonde girl laughed, and Lexa felt all the air in her leave in a huff as she smiled back. She chuckled, looking down at her feet nervously as she listened to the musical sound that was Clarke’s laughter. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to keep hearing that sound, for as long as she possibly could. Literally nothing. “I’m,” Clarke said slowly, taking a few steps over to where Lexa was standing awkwardly by the counter. “Gonna ask one more time – I’m kinda hoping for a different answer here.” She was close now, too close. “Why haven’t you been coming here lately?”

Lexa swallowed. _Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it,_ “Because it – it made me uncomfortable to be here. To be around you.” _Shit, you said it._

Hurt crossed Clarkes eyes momentarily. “So it _was_ something I did.”

Lexa winced. “God, no, don’t think – jesus, that’s the last thing I want you to think. It was me, it was all me, it was nothing you did wrong, you did nothing wrong.” She huffed, looking resolutely down at her feet. “I kind of didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. It was – I’m – “ she babbled for a second, closing her eyes and wincing at her own awkwardness. “I’m really not a gets-infatuated-with-strangers kind of person, I swear to god I’m not, and I just thought it was unfair on you me being here and thinking about it when it was probably just making you uncomfortable and it was obviously not going to happen because, I mean, I haven’t felt like this before and its _so_ embarrassing and I – _mph!”_

Lexa, thankfully, found it impossible to finish her babbling rant because there was a sudden stripe of warmth up her front - where her skin had been wet and cold and clammy it was now warm with the heat of another person pressed to it. What’s more, her eyes flew open as warm lips found hers, with hands at her jaw and a pair of thumbs grazing her cheekbones and fireworks exploding in front of her eyes. Because by some miracle (if it wasn’t some kind of hallucination,) Clarke had leaned forward and was kissing her. Lexa tilted her head slightly and Clarke seemed happy to follow suit, their lips moving together in a perfect slow slide of heat while the heavy rain against the pavement outside composed a perfect amount of white noise in the background.

When they parted, Lexa’s mouth stayed hanging open in thinly veiled surprise. Clarke stared at her for a couple of moments before laughing, and at the sound and sight of the blonde girl’s mirth even Lexa had to chuckle. “I’d... Well, I’d kinda hoped it was something like that,” Clarke said, her voiced tinged with slight embarrassment.

“I – you – I,” Lexa babbled, her mouth opening and closing. She ducked her head, feeling her cheeks redden. “I really didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Was – was I that obvious?”

“No,” Clarke allowed. “But not much gets past Octavia.”

Lexa smiled at her feet. When she glanced up again, Clarke was staring at her with a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Testing the waters of what she could and couldn’t do, Lexa leaned forward a little, and felt warmth explode inside her when Clarke closed the distance and again they were kissing. Kissing Clarke wasn’t anything like Lexa pictured it – for one thing, their clothes were somewhat more drenched than Lexa could have imagined. For another, in any fantasy Lexa could concoct, neither would have been shivering from the cold.

The rain didn’t seem to be easing, and when they parted again, Clarke glanced out the window at the downpour. “I wonder if the buses are back on schedule,” she wondered, with the air of a person who didn’t really care too much.

“I wonder,” Lexa echoed, her eyes still fixed on the blonde girl’s face.

Clarke turned back to her, her eyes lingering on Lexa’s lips for a moment, a decidedly dark look crossing her face. A weird kind of warm haze had settled over Lexa’s mind, and it felt almost impossible to string a sentence of words together. “Do – do you want to stay here a bit longer? Just – just until the rain stops?”

Clarke nodded, shifting forward a little. “Yeah. Just ‘till the rain stops.” She said, with a smile more amused and playful than anything, before pressing against Lexa so that they were pressed against the counter, everything suddenly slowing down in a perfect haze of blooming warmth, slow smiles and rapid heartbeats.

Who could say how long the rain would last? Who would blame them if they were to take shelter here from the cold, they were both starting to warm up, after all. Lincoln and Octavia were having a nice dinner at some fancy restaurant across town but, and here Lexa felt she was being rightfully optimistic, she and Clarke might be able to have their own date of the century here.

And if all went well, maybe a couple after that too.

 


End file.
